


Walking

by TroubledSleep



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Crossover, Drabble, F/M, One Shot, Protective Percy, Sad Percy Jackson, annabeth is missing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2019-03-20 09:26:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13714788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TroubledSleep/pseuds/TroubledSleep
Summary: Georgia was a bad idea, Annabeth had said...Annabeth is missing, and Percy needs help finding her.





	Walking

Trees blurred past him. Percy faintly acknowledged his heart beat thudding in his ears. His breaths were coming out in pants, and somewhere in his mind he knew he should stop running. There’s no point. His feet hurt and his legs ached, but he didn’t stop. Soon, he lost sight of the car, and he felt himself involuntarily speeding up. No point. Frustration causing his face to scrunch up.  When he reached an intersection he stopped, collapsing to the floor, exhausted beyond words. No point… His shirt was drenched with sweat, and he was sure the dampness on his cheeks wasn’t only from the sweat. “Annabeth…no…” His voice sounded foreign to him.  

He looked up. The sky seemed too blue. Too clear. A scowl crossed his face. “This is your fault, y’know!” The guilt he felt didn’t go away.  

Drained, he looked down again, glaring at the asphalt. Georgia is a bad idea. That’s what she had said. Why hadn’t he listened? He brushed back some messy strands of hair. He was an idiot. She would know what to do… surely. What would she do?? 

A snarl broke him out of his thoughts, and a moment later Riptide was out and he found himself on his feet. The dead didn’t have a chance. 

One slice was all it took really, but he couldn’t stop. He didn’t. Not till, he could barely see them through the tears and sweat. Everything looked red, and maybe it was. He dropped to his knees, eyes closed. The blood in his ears didn’t stop pounding.  

Vroooom. Interrupted the thudding. It wasn’t long before he saw the motorbike heading towards him. He didn’t move, though. His hand pocketed Riptide then clenched. He was itching for a fight and with things the way they were, it was more than likely he would get one. Stranger danger, after all.  

For a moment, it seemed as if the biker failed to notice him on the middle of the road, but once he passed Percy, he abruptly turned and stopped. A few seconds later, the man was in front of him, his crossbow not aimed at him but still at his side, ready for use.  

“Hey man, need help there?” Sharp eyes looked him over. Probably looking for weapons or injuries. Then eyed the dead around him. 

Percy got up, licking his lips, surprised by the offer. “I- yeah, you got any water?” 

The man backed up toward his bike, keeping an eye on Percy. He reached inside a pack. “Here.” 

Percy reached out, catching the bottle with a hand. He felt the tension and exhaustion leaving his muscles as he drank. He was gulping too fast and almost choked, but kept drinking.  

“Leave some for me, yeah?”  

Percy stopped, wiping his chin. He capped the bottle before walking over and handing it back. “Thanks, really. I needed that. Name’s Percy, by the way.”  

The man shrugged. “Daryl.” Was the gruff answer. “Why you out here alone, anyway? And without supplies?”  

Percy shrugged, ignoring the first question. “My stuff was taken.” He paused for a second. “You wouldn’t happen to have a camp would you? I know you don’t know me, but I can promise you I won’t try anything.” 

Daryl eyed him. “Promises ain’t worth shit, kid. But yeah. I’ve got a camp.” His weight shifted to his other foot. “Lemme ask you somethin’ though. How many walkers have you killed, Percy?” 

Percy’s mouth opened, then closed, then frowned. “I dunno, a lot.”  

“And how many people have you killed?”  

Percy looked up, meeting his eyes. “I don’t know.” His voice faint.  

Daryl’s expression didn’t change. “Why?” 

Percy looked down. Why? It was a good question. Why didn’t he like it then? “To save the lives of others.” This time his voice was firm and his gaze steady.  

Daryl nodded, before hiking his leg over his bike. “C’mon, then, Percy.”  

Percy let out a small smile and followed his lead.  

As they sped off, Percy couldn’t help but feel dread building in the pit of his stomach. Annabeth.    
 


End file.
